I've had a crush on the hairstylist I go to since my first appointment. Over the fifteen years I've been going, I've seen her age gracefully. She's now fifty-two years old but she doesn't look a day over forty. Her name is Sherry and she stands about 5' 4". Her figure still looks as sexy to me as it did fifteen years earlier. Her most attractive feature is her face followed closely by her sexy feet.
I look forward to each appointment so that I can take a peek. The problem I have is that I only get to see her sexy feet six or seven times a year because of the fall and winter weather. I've thrown out little hints over the years that I think her feet are sexy. Looking back, I wish I had said I think her feet are sexy. My little crush turned upward after one appointment last summer.
Sherry's hair studio is one of seven located in the building. I was sitting in the hallway outside her studio watching her as she was finishing the customer in front of me. I came in ten minutes before my scheduled time just to take a look at her. I pretended to read a magazine while I stared at her cutting hair. Her feet were in full display as she was wearing some sort of padded sandal. My interest peaked as she removed one foot from its holder and ran it slowly up and down her calf. I stared at the backside of her traveling foot. I wondered what would she do if I was there licking her exposed arch. Her foot then went back to its place and she continued the haircut.
To my benefit, she was running almost ten minutes late. This led to more watching and the fact that I started to grow. As it was my turn to go next, I had a hard time calming down walking into the studio. We made small talk for a few minutes as I sat down and she began washing my hair. Upon completion, I decided to put forth the idea I thought about while waiting in the hallway.
"I see that you're dressed in the summer spirit today. I've got a question for you. Don't your feet get sore standing in those sandals all day long?"
She paused a moment and replied, "They do get a little sore, but I just hate to wear shoes during the summer. These have extra padding, see?"
Sherry then lifted her foot upward showing me her padded sandals. My eyes went directly to her toes, which were painted perfect in red gloss. She put her foot back down and went back to cutting my hair.
I decided to push the subject a little further, saying, "As a guy, I thank you for choosing fashion over comfort."
She smiled and continued the haircut. I didn't push the subject further so we continued talking about summer plans and such. When she finished my haircut, I got up off the chair and moved over to the seat next to her appointment book. I stared down at her feet as she swept up my clippings off the floor. As we continued talking, she caught me at least once checking out her feet. Sherry finished sweeping and sat down next to me, opening her appointment book. She crossed one leg over the other as she paged through the book for next months appointment. I stared in a trance while her foot slowly swayed back and forth. Sherry then stopped her foot and let her sandal lightly dangle from her toes. She took her time finding a date, which was fine with me.
She turned her head, catching me staring and said, "How about Monday the 24th at 6:00?"
I, somewhat embarrassed at being caught said, "Fine with me."
My time was done, so I threw out one more foot comment before I left. "Your sandals are cute, I just can't see how they'd actually be comfortable."
Sherry then surprised me by swinging her chair and lifting her foot up for me to see. "Here, check them out if you'd like."
I reached out and held her ankle as I took her sandal off. I glanced at her foot, noticing how soft it looked. I then held her sandal in both hands and pinched the rubber padding. I wanted to go ahead and lick the part where her foot had just been, but I didn't.
"The padding doesn't seem to bad on these." I said.
Sherry lifted her foot again saying, "Now that my sandals passed the test, be a sweetheart and put it back on my foot."
I once again held her ankle and before I put her sandal back on, I brushed my index finger from her toes down to the heel, causing her to flinch. I was amazed at how soft her foot felt. I let go of her foot and stood up to leave. The next customer was waiting outside, so I leaned in and whispered, "You take good care of your feet, the least you could ask for is a little massage for your tired feet when you get home."
As I walked away, she laughed and said, "That'll be the day."