I was a foot massage voyeur

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic


Wife traded her yoga services to a masseur who offered to massage her feet in return. I wanted to watch so I creeped down to the location and peeped through the window watching this man touching my
wife's perfect feet.

Submitted: July 30, 2018

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Submitted: July 30, 2018

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I was a Foot Massage Voyeur
byphilgill11©

My wife Michelle is a yoga teacher, and after one of her classes a pupil asked her if she would consider trading her class for a massage. She had never had a man massage her before, so was nervous about it. However, he kind of put her on the spot and she knew of his qualifications because he practiced in the same facility.

"Gee I guess so," said my wife, a well-preserved blond haired woman in her 40s who looked 10 years younger because of her health and bone structure.

"But really I only need my legs and feet worked on." Her thinking was that because he was a male, she wouldn't be comfortable with him having complete access to her 5'4" 130 pound athletic body, complete with large breasts and bubble butt.

"Oh, that works perfectly," he said. "My name is Ed Woodley by the way. I have seen you around here but I had never taken your class before. I am really glad I did."

"Michelle," she said.

"I really enjoyed your yoga class. It was really good, and you have a nice way of communicating the benefits to people of all ages."

"Thank you, Ed," Michelle smiled. "Glad you enjoyed it. Hopefully you will come back for more. I noticed you ended up with a good spot near the front."

"I definitely will," he said, "and yes, I moved up front when a space became available. Do you mind me asking what size your feet are? They look barbie doll sized."

"Size six," Michelle said. "Why?"

"Oh, I just need to know to prepare for your massage," he answered. "I thought they were pretty - ah small - from what I could see in the yoga class. What day works for you?"

"Probably Friday morning, does that work?"

"Can you come early?," he asked. "I can be there at 8:00 am, if you can."

"That works," Michelle said.

"It's a date." "By the way, I meant to ask you if you would consider me videoing the session for my foot massage students. I teach reflexology and foot massage too."

Michelle knew several people at the healing studio who sold videos, so it didn't seem at all out of the ordinary.

"Why me?," she asked.

"Not sure if you have ever been told this before but you have perfectly shaped and sized feet, and I need to make sure my videos are adorned with women who have exceptional body parts, depending on which type of video I plan to sell. You would not believe some of the women's feet I see in this job. Yours are small and delicate looking."

"Thank you, kind sir," she joked, blushing.

"So you have been told that before?," he probed.

"Ah... not really. No," my wife lied. I have told her a thousand times, if I told her once, how gorgeous her feet are. But she is also used to covering up my fetish. My friends have noticed too, even non-foot guys have been caught starring at her feet. Even shopping, she has been singled out in a mall a few times by guys who wanted to "buy their wives her exact same shoes."

"Is there anything I need to do before the video?," Michelle asked.

"Well," Ed said. "Do you mind letting me have a look at your feet close up?"

"Okay, sure, I suppose," my wife said shyly.

Ed bent down on his right knee, and patted the top of his left knee directing Michelle to set her foot on it. She hesitated, and without even looking up Ed pointed to his knee in an exaggerated way. Michelle slipped her foot out of her right flip flop and lifted her toes to his knee. Ed, gently, touched the back of her heel and guided her foot so that the entire lovely ped rested on his knee and thigh.

My wife had black polish on her alabaster white feet, freshly pedicured professionally with a tiny silver star and moon bedazzled onto her big toes. She was going to put the sparkles on every toe, but the sparkles were too large to fit on her tiny toenails.

"Love the little jewels on your toes," Ed said, gliding his fingers across my wife's toes. "Your polish is just perfect right now, when did you get your peddi?"

"Just yesterday," Michelle answered. "I like to have my feet done before my weekly class."

"Okay, no need for a new peddi. But can we move the appointment to tomorrow morning instead of Friday? I don't want your polish to wear before the video. I am probably going to have to use some dim light filtering because of the shiny dark polish against your snow white feet. But that's not a problem. By the way your feet are more proportional than what I even imagined. Perfect for my video."

Using both hands now, Ed's fingers cruised slowly around both sides of her feet, thumbs sliding across the top. Michelle noticed the large size they were, but also that they were quite thick yet soft for man-hands.

When he got to her heel, he clutched her ankle lightly with his left hand and ushered it upward as he slipped his free hand beneath her thin dainty heel and slid it along her small soft sole. He paused at her arch and took a couple of circular feels with his fingertips before gliding his hand down past her under-toes and then on top of them with his thumb... pausing for a moment.

"Thank you again," Michelle said. "Yes I should be able to come in the morning."

"Tonight, soak your feet and then smother them in vaseline okay?," Ed asked. "Then wrap them in a plastic bag and find two large pairs of winter socks to wear to bed over top of them. You probably do that on occasion anyway, judging by how soft and smooth your little feet are."

"Sure I can do that," said my wife. "And yes I have."

"Great, see you in the morning," said Ed, patting the top of my wife's foot as if to say you are now free to go.

When Michelle told me about this unusual agreement after she got home from work, my dick was completely hard thinking about her perfect feet being touched by some stranger.

"How old is this guy?," I asked jealously.

"He's probably 25," Michelle answered. "Don't worry he's not much to look at. He's probably about 6'3" tall but only about 150 pounds. Very skinny, and not very muscular at all. He's got glasses and a big nose, and balding though he shaves his head. You know, the typical granola type."

Still rather horny about the incident and upcoming foot and leg massage, during supper and thereafter I could not stop these scenes from going through my head. Eventually I had to go into the bathroom and relieve myself of my build-up, while in the living room Michelle's perfect feet were being soaked and prepared to the liking of this other man, if you can believe.

While stroking my dick, I was thinking of her perfect toes. Her second toes are just slightly shorter than her bedazzled big toes, and then each of her final three toes slope down at a perfect, but very minor angle, so that all five of her painted nails are exactly in-line with each other. You could run a ruler down them and not find one toe out of align even a little, in this descending angle. In fact, once I did just that, measuring her toes at less than two inches long; her feet 7 3/4 inches from toe tips to heel; and a width of roughly 3 inches at the balls of her feet.

That made me stroke faster, my dick now long and hard as I thought of her wonderful round toe tips. I imagined I was looking up close at the instep side of her foot and tracing her high arch which I could slide my fingertips beneath. I imagined looking at her big toe from the side and could visualize her toe tipping up just a little on the end, which was ridiculously cute

. I had to slow down yanking on my manhood now, as I pictured her sexy soft heels in my mind, fitting generously into the palms of my hands as I fondled all around them with my thumbs.

I came closer to coming when thinking about there being no rough spots and how small they felt. I flipped her feet over now in my imagination, looking at her sexy soles made perfect by the high arch and the insignificant angle of descent of the little-bitty toes.

I've noticed toes which angle too greatly, which not only ruins the look of the toes but also the shape of the soles are affected negatively. I loved how her toes were exactly the right width for her petite feet, with no gaps between them. I imagined her toe pads, and round toe tips. I could see her mini toe-stems in a perfectly straight line proudly holding up the little toes pads above the flawless balls of her feet. They looked like they were dying for some tongue action, I thought.

After I was done imagining her adorable wrinkles crossing her feet from side to side at a slight angle starting at her lovely arch, I could feel my dick getting thicker as I envisioned the dozens of wrinkles pop to life as I bend her foot so that her sexy little toes were now pointed. I pictured placing my face into the "feet pussy" between both of the arches of her soles.

Then I imagined this tall thin masseur handling her feet in the morning. I felt a lump of jealousy and eroticism at once, thinking about my wife's delicate feet being so tiny in his large man-hands. It was truly beauty and the beast as he took his long fingers and slid them between her toes and just as he was leaning over to kiss the tips of my wife's toes, I came with a fury I hadn't felt in months. Gushes of cum exploded out of my penis in a pulsing beat as the masseur covered my wife's toes with his mouth, sucking in the taste and aroma of lotion and bubble bath which matched in flavor to the visual perfection of her tootsies.

I was squeezing out the remaining fluids, and still being jerked around by my firing muscles and nerve endings throbbing in ecstasy, as I remembered the taste and feel of her lovely little toes being covered in saliva inside my mouth. All five easily fitting into my food hole. Me sucking off her toe ring and licking it on the end of my tongue.

Later... I was sitting on a side chair as my wife set her socked feet up on the loveseat directly across from where she was sitting. The masseur was sitting on the other side of the loveseat now right next to my wife's gorgeous feet. Her socks were black and thin. You could see the shape of her feet, her arch and the perfect angle of her toe tips from big to small.

The masseur noticed them too, and ran his fingers in an upward motion across her socked soles. She flinched, and pulled back, but not before he clutched the toes of the closest foot to him and brought it toward his body. He took a long smell of her socked toes, closing his eyes as he took in the scent, gently moving his head back and forth. Then he set her foot down on his inner thigh, holding it in place with one hand and reaching for the neck of the sock on her ankle.

He smiled as he pulled the sock down, exposed her ankle and then the soft pink skin of her heel. He slid the sock down to the ball of her foot so that her sexy arch was naked, and then he proceeded to tickle her tiny tootsie.

My wife flung her foot from one side to the other in panic, grazing his crotch each and every time, as the remainder of the sock flew off her toes, exposing the ebony nail polish, a sexy toe ring, and that wonderfully bedazzled big toe.

That, my friends, is when I woke up.

I had slept-in a little, and Michelle was walking over to the bed to give me a goodbye kiss. She was already dressed, and ready to go. My gawd, her and her gorgeous feet were on their way to her appointment with some strange man who has the right to touch her delicious feet.

After she left, I quickly got ready. I had been fighting off an urge that I could no longer control. I was going to follow her to her appointment, once I was ready.

I got to the healthy living center at 8:30 so the massage was already half over. Only a few vehicles were in the parking lot and barely a soul was in the building itself. That was good, as it allowed me time to look for a masseur's name plaque on one of the doors, quietly and secretly. As much as I tried, I couldn't find anyone doing massage. Finally, at the end of one hallway there was an emergency exit to one side, and a short passageway opposite the exit which featured a door with the name "Edward Woodley, Massage Therapist."

Beside the door were two waiting room chairs. The door had a frosted window, but not the full way up, just to about six feet high or roughly the top of my forehead. Even standing on my tip-toes I couldn't see inside the room. So I slid a chair over, and as silently as possible stood on it so that I could peek inside the room.

My heart was beating quickly now, as I skulked through the clear upper glass on the door. I just glimpsed in for a second the first time, pulling back behind the security of the wood door frame while reflecting on what I had witnessed.

Sure enough, Michelle was there. She was laying on her stomach on a cushioned floor, not the massage table I had imagined. The masseur was not as homely as I had been told, but he was very thin indeed and was bespectacled with short thinning hair.

A camera was to the left of the two of them, light reflecting umbrellas all around. Michelle's feet were closest to me, and Edward was to her right.

Braver now, and confident neither could see me from where I was leering as long as I was careful, I leaned over to the clear glass once again.

My wife was wearing a black leotard which went down to about mid-calf. Her feet were bare naked. Her hair in a short ponytail. The masseur was in a t-shirt and black cotton sweat-pants. Michelle's feet were fresh and very white and pink because of all the soaking from the night before. Her left leg was now bent at the knee, and the masseur had his hand on top of her toes to guide her foot parallel to the floor.

Her other leg was straight, though he still had his hand on top of her heel for some reason. He lifted her other foot up parallel to the floor also, and now both of her feet were pressed together dangling before him. My heart was pumping and my dick was gaining blood inside my pants.

Setting one hand gently on the small of my wife's back, he pushed down on her feet until they were right above her butt and then straddled between them with his knees on the floor, legs wide apart. He gently pressured her feet down towards her fit little ass and then brought them back up to his stomach. His hands were so large, and her feet tiny enough, for them to mostly disappear under his palms.

When he let her feet relax, her ankles were pressed against his groin as he stretched her feet back and forth from his belly to her sexy ass. As the stretching exercise ended he lowered his face to her soles and inhaled the beauty of both feet. I reached down with one hand and began rubbing my yearning manhood until it felt better.

He set down both of my wife's legs and then positioned himself on the floor between her feet, with his legs in a v-shape on either side. I could see the wrinkles on her feet well, as her toes pressed into the floor. He began massaging her ankles and calves, and as he did, her feet wiggled from side to side touching the inside of his thighs.

Edward slid forward farther now to reach the backs of her knees, all the while my wife's toes were resting under his balls inside his sweatpants. I could see her heels moving side to side as he rubbed Michelle's calves and the soft insides of her knees.

He asked my wife to flip over next, getting up to reach for a warm towel to keep her upper body warm; and also a sleeping mask to cover her eyes from the light needed for the video work.

He again slyly moved down to her size 6s, her beautiful toes now facing him. The masseur sat between her feet on his knees this time, glided his fingers from her ankles to her toes over and over again on the tops of both feet.

Then he adjusted himself while lifting her left foot up towards his lips. I thought he was going to kiss her under-toes but instead he sat cross-legged and rested her foot on his lap. With her foot hovering just above his manhood, I could tell he had a hard-on under those sweats.

With one hand cupping her heel and the other covering her jet-back toenails, he pulled her foot towards his body while he rocked in a circular pattern while stretching her toes. He let her heel glide across his hard, but hidden dick, time and again - bending my wife's foot in a circular motion from the ankle. Gently, melodically.

I licked my dry lips and tried to gather myself, while he was doing the same with her other foot.

When both feet were treated equally, he took both feet in his hands and pulled them towards his chest. I could see my wife sliding as her feet got closer and closer to him. The pads of her toes would touch against his chest, and then he would release and do it again and again. I could see him looking down at her toes the entire time, enjoying his up close and personal view of my wife's feet.

Now he stood up still holding both feet, raising her feet up with him. Her heels were the same height as his erect penis as he took both ankles and swirled her feet around in a circle, grazing his sweatpants every rotation.

Ed began sitting down again on one knee, stretching out her thighs one by one by placing a foot into his lower stomach and then pushing towards my wife while holding her other leg straight with his hand. He gyrated back and forth, around and around with my wife's foot right beside his hardened cock. Then he switched feet before guiding her tootsies back, with legs straight again on the floor.

The masseur went down to her feet now and placed a hand behind each of her outstretched calves. He guided her legs up until her knees were bent, feet flat on the floor. Edward kneeled between her feet, resting his butt against his own heels and I could clearly see my wife's toes were right below his hanging, longing balls.

With her knees together, he guided her legs together to the side so they touched the floor. When this happened, her beautiful feet turned from flat on the floor to instead being turned on top of each other against his sack and cock inside his sweats. He rotated her legs from one side to the other, secretly grinding his crotch into her feet and adjusting his dick with his hand when he had the opportunity.

Back and forth he went, her toes pointing so as not to brush against his manhood. But he would push her knees to the floor, bring them up and then back down to the same side several times.

Michelle would relax her feet, and when she did he would turn her body all the way again and her feet would flip together bushing his cock and arousing him even further. I was enjoying the view, though I was jealous as hell I had never been as aroused as seeing another man enjoy my wife's feet as much as I do.

Ed stood up again at this point and brought her feet straight up, heels against his lower stomach. He walked them until my wife was getting a good stretch with her feet parallel to the ceiling. Then he stepped a few inches closer to her upper body, above her, each inch her feet slid down a little toward his dick.

Her ankles were between his legs now as he moved them closer to Michelle's covered eyes. He began swirling his whole body while her feet moved and he inched forward even more. Her heels were now against his dick, as the stretch continued for my wife and the gyrating continued for the masseuse.

He grabbed both of my wife's feet with one hand, cupping all ten toes, and pulled them forward even farther, giving her legs a tremendous stretch. Meanwhile he reached down and started pulling on his cock. Then he backed up and lowered her feet, until her legs were angled from her knees and her feet were pointed at him and presented before him like a prize.

He continued to yank on himself while sitting on his knees before his trophies. Holding both feet together with his left hand now, he circled his dick around the cotton sweatpants with his hand while his face and lips came ever closer to my wife's toes before him.

I could see Ed's face circle just above her toes, while he sniffed in the beauty of her feet. He kept stroking himself and opened his mouth, with his tongue snaking its way toward her unsuspecting toes.


Just then he started jerking and twisting his body in contorted ways, and I knew he came in his sweats while smelling my wife's feet. He stood up now, and unsure of what he would do next I lowered myself from the chair, put it back where it belonged, and quickly headed for my vehicle.

I am not sure if my wife knew what was going on, but I am sure she suspected something with her feet touching his sweatpants on many, many occasions. However, when she got home she acted like it was just a normal massage. This, though, was not the only adventure I had with Edward Woodley, Massage Therapist. Nor would it be hers.

 


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