He serves his wife in many ways, particularly at her feet

There’s nothing more gratifying than watching a man lick his cum off your stocking feet. Especially if he has begged you for the privilege of putting it there in the first place. I love the feeling of power as I look down upon him enthusiastically performing an act that some would consider humiliating. Most men won’t even consider eating their own cum, but here mine is greedily lapping up his spend from my nylon encased toes. His tongue working diligently to pull each tiny strand of his creamy white seed from between my red polished toes. As I gaze down at him I can see he is totally enraptured by this special opportunity. I can see how thankful he is that I’ve even allowed him to cum and can tell that he wants to show how grateful he is by dutifully cleaning my toes back to their original perfection. Mmmm I love that feeling.

I’ve been getting this treatment from my loving husband for sometime. He’s always had a thing for my feet and bit by bit I have made them his full time hobby. I receive daily foot massages, weekly pedicures and all the most fashionable shoes, boots, and hosiery I can handle.

Putting my shoes on has become a daily ritual for us. In the morning as I get ready for work I require my husband to fetch my footwear for the day and place my selection on my feet. He goes into my closet and finds the appointed pair then kneels before me until I tell him to begin. He begins by kissing the top of my left foot then gently and carefully putting on my left shoe then kissing the top of my shod foot before repeating the process with my right shoe. Following this, he buckles a gold ankle bracelet around my left ankle and then buckles an identical bracelet around his left wrist. He then helps me to my feet, kisses me on the cheek and thanks me for letting him help me get ready and we proceed downstairs to breakfast.

The foot massage is my most basic pleasure and I receive one nearly everyday if I want it. Sometime in the evening, usually after dinner I sit down in “my” chair, a big comfortable leather chair with a matching ottoman that is perfectly situated in our family room with good light for reading, a prime view of the TV and near to the phone. As soon as I sit down my husband will offer to massage my feet. He varies his approach each night, but it always includes a deep massage of my arches, toes, ankles and heels. As part of his treatment he frequently applies lotions to my skin which over time has made my feet as soft as a baby’s bottom. The length of the massage will depend upon my mood, but usually takes around a half hour during which time I read, watch TV or talk on the phone. Sometimes I make him do it much longer, which is a treat for both of us. Sometimes I pass altogether either to tease him or because I’m simply have other things to do. In any case, it’s a wonderful way to relax and spend some quiet time together at the end of the day and watching him take care of my pleasure often puts me in the mood for more heart racing activity later.

When he feels like he is done he asks if I’ve had enough and once I’ve agreed he will ask if there is anything else I would like him to do. Sometimes I’ll ask him to go down on me. He loves to do this for me and happily repositions himself to give me his best oral service. It depends upon my mood, but whenever I’ve requested it, I will always keep him busy until I’ve had at least one orgasm, and sometimes many more.

How long this might take depends as much upon my mood as his ministrations (after all these years of practice, he’s become pretty darn good). After already receiving a relaxing foot rub, I sometimes find myself in a languorous mood and am more than happy to keep him down there for a good long time. Other nights I’m happy to keep it short and sweet and move on to other things. In any event, I decide when we are done. Unlike some of the stories one reads, I don’t “demand” an orgasm every night as if I’m some kind of sex addict. Sometimes I’m in the mood, sometimes not. It might be weeks before I ask again, it could be hours. I ask for what I want, he’s happy to fulfill my need. What more could lovers want of one another.

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